Angels of Winter
by Lexen
Summary: What Lucius learned from the snow.


**Disclaimer****: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. J.K. Rowling created it all, and no money is being made from this work of fan fiction.**

**AN****: I have no beta, and all mistakes are mine. I reserve the right to correct mistakes. This Lucius/Narcissa story takes place during the first winter after the Battle of Hogwarts. **

"Narcissa, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" I looked up from my position on the snow covered ground to find Lucius, perfectly tailored robes and blond hair streaming behind him, running toward me. I couldn't help but laugh at his panicked expression, and it felt good to laugh. He skidded to a stop beside me, the snow surrounding his shoes which were decidedly unsuited for the frozen precipitation on the ground. As he crouched, grimacing in distaste at the wet snow, I laughed again and began to move my arms and legs back and forth against the snow.

Blankly, Lucius just stared at me. "Narcissa, are you well?"

I giggled again and eyed him in fond exasperation. "I'm making a snow angel. Bellatrix and I used to do it when we were little girls." I smiled at the memory, though not without a moment of sadness for Bella.

Lucius raised a perfectly manicured brow. "And your pureblood parents allowed this?"

"Well," I admitted mischievously, "That's not to say we didn't get in trouble for it later. But we were never punished very much. We were children, after all."

The expression on Lucius's face reminded me, once again, that Lucius's father had not been so indulgent with his son. I was glad that Lucius had allowed me to have such a major hand in Draco's upbringing. Otherwise, he might have grown up to be as stiff and formal as Lucius. After so many years, I was still trying to break Lucius of that though it was easier now than it used to be. Azkaban had left my husband a broken man, but the war had left him a better man in the end. Finally, he was beginning to acknowledge what was really important…his family.

"But why would you willingly roll around in frozen precipitation in order to make impressions on the ground?" He could not keep the amusement from his voice even as he attempted to frown at me. I stuck out my tongue at him, catching a snowflake in the process.

"Because it's fun, Lucius! And because I can now. Because I couldn't before and I am celebrating my freedom to breathe again." I lay still and looked up into his grey eyes.

He sighed, smiled back, and then he did something that I would never have imagined him doing. Heedless of his expensive robes, the cold, wet state of the ground, and proper pureblood behavior, he sat down beside me, lying down flat on his back, his hair spreading out like a halo around him as he copied my earlier actions, moving his arms and legs against the snow beneath him.

My angel now had company.

His eyes had closed as he moved, but now they opened again even as the snow settled against his long eyelashes, melted against his face, and soaked into his blond hair. Finally, Lucius laughed aloud and sat up, moving over to straddle my waist as I lay on my back.

"You are right, Cissy. We can breathe again. I have observed that Astoria seems to have been raised rather more like you than myself, and she appears to have been instructing our son in the finer points of this fun you speak of. Perhaps, Draco might be prevailed upon to allow us to borrow her occasionally."

Lucius had just finished his statement when a large snowball hit him in the back. He twisted around, and I could only laugh as we saw Draco and Astoria coming toward us. Draco was smirking even as he bent down to gather more snow.

"Well now, Father, this is progress. I never imagined that the day would come when I would see you, of all people, playing in the snow! I will have to put this memory in a pensieve, or no one but Astoria and Mother will ever believe me. Would you like Astoria and I to teach you about snowball fights next?"

The only answer Draco got was a face full of snow from his father. And of course, Draco had never been known to turn down a duel. He launched another armful of snow back at Lucius, but his vision had been obscured by the falling snowflakes. It hit me instead. And who was I to resist the temptation to draw a willing Astoria into the fun as well when I threw my own snow in his direction with conveniently bad aim?

By the time the house elves appeared to ask for orders regarding the evening meal, we were all soaking wet, freezing, and breathless from laughing so hard. Under its blanket of snow, Malfoy Manor, the sight of so much pain and grief, finally laughed with us.

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